As I paint, my mind wanders… at oceans edge I slowly walk, I hear soft sounds of waves retreating and then returning with a muffled roar, a timeless, endless rhythm. I count my steps, two no three, before the roar returns, and with each wave the water edges closer as the incoming tide returns. Now, more than somewhat lightheaded, not sure if it was the flashback or maybe way too many paint fumes, I lay the bush down.
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